


Connections

by soongtypeprincess



Series: Married Coppers [24]
Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Parents, Babies, Gay Policemen in the 1970s, Gen, Newborn Children, Polyamory, Surrogacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 09:25:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16531847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soongtypeprincess/pseuds/soongtypeprincess
Summary: “You and Annie are her biological parents and, I want her to have a connection with you two…” He paused and wiped away a tear. “Obviously, but...what if there isn’t one between us?”“You’re being ridiculous.”





	Connections

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Sam is, as always, being very ridiculous.
> 
> "My Special Angel" is a song by Bobby Helms and I don't own it.
> 
> Neither do I own the canon characters from Life on Mars. 
> 
> Enjoy all the baby time! Omg...

They were at Annie’s flat helping her pack her overnight suitcase for the hospital. The baby would be born quite soon, as Annie was already having contractions that were days apart.

“I don’t think they’re contractions, love,” she told Sam as he helped her from her sitting position on her bed. “Spasms, maybe, but...she’ll be here soon, that’s for sure. At least, I hope.”

Sam looked at her, concerned. “What do you mean, ‘you hope?’” he asked. “Is something else wrong, Annie?”

“You’ve done it now, petal,” Gene interjected, carrying Annie’s makeup bag from her lavatory and tossing it into her suitcase. “He’s going to worry about every little pain you feel and every small wince you make.”

“And you  _ don’t _ , Guv?” Sam asked him, rather taken aback. “Annie could go into labor any moment now and--”

“Yes, Sam,” Gene interrupted, “ _ Annie _ will go into labor, not you. I’m sure she can read her body better than either of us.”

“Lads, come on,” Annie groaned. “Don’t argue today. But, yes, Sammy, I adore and appreciate how concerned you are, but I promise: if my instincts tell me that something is horribly wrong, I will let you know.”

Sam smirked and nodded. “Alright,” he muttered. “Sorry.”

She put a hand on his cheek and lightly kissed him. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to visit the little girls’ room again. Feels like she’s step-dancing on me bladder.”

Sam and Gene lightly chuckled as Annie left the room, and Sam sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Why does she need to take makeup?” he heard Gene ask him.

Sam grinned. “Well, your mother will be bringing her camera, so I’m sure Annie would want to wear some.”

“I think she can excuse the makeup routine after being in labor for...well, for God knows how long it will be. According to me mum, it took her nearly 24 hours to push out the old Gene Genie.”

“Well, according to your mum,” Sam said, “your head was the size of a cantaloupe melon and she felt for sure she would need stitches.”

“My mother should get a medal for exaggeration.”

“I don’t know, Guv. I’ve seen your baby pictures.”

Gene moved one of Annie’s nightgowns aside in her case to properly secure her makeup bag, when he came across a pair of rather oddly shaped glass tubes. “What in the bloody hell are these?”

Sam saw Gene holding it in his hand and, with his own curiosity piqued, he stood and crossed the room to him. “I...I don’t know,” he said as he picked up the other one. “Could this be...is this--?”

“Some kind of sex toy?” Gene whispered, a hint of shock in his voice.

“Don’t be stupid, Gene,” Sam hissed. “I think sex would be the last thing on a woman’s mind as she was giving birth!”

“Well, granted,” Gene muttered, “but we weren’t able to fool around until a couple of months ago.”

“Only because you found out that you wouldn’t be harming the baby.”

“I could have, you know. Imagine: the old todger hitting the kid in the head. What a way to be brought into the world, eh?”

Sam shook his head, still holding the glass tube. “And we kept telling you that was the biggest myth! And don’t flatter yourself, love.”

“No complaints from  _ you _ , so far, my pet.”

Annie exhaled a sigh of relief when she returned to the bedroom and bit her lip to hold back her giggle. “Well,” she said, “what have you two found?” 

They instantly looked at her with wide eyes, like two schoolboys caught doing something they shouldn’t. 

“Uh, well, um...you see,” Sam stammered, presenting the glass tube to her. “We were just--”

“What’s with the bicycle horns, love?” Gene suddenly asked.

Annie burst into a fit of giggles and lightly pressed her hand against her pregnant belly. She suddenly stopped and gasped. “Oh, bloody hell, I’m about to piss myself again! Excuse me!” 

They watched her leave, Gene’s rude question unanswered until she yelled from the bathroom. 

“They’re breast pumps!”

Sam and Gene looked once more at the tubes, realized the exact mechanics of the objects, and then carefully placed them back into her suitcase and under her nightgown, where they belonged.

\-----------------------

Later that night, Gene rolled over in bed and reached to Sam’s side to place his hand on him. However, he felt Sam’s thigh and opened his eyes to find him sitting up against the headboard.

Sam looked down at him and grinned, placing his hand on Gene’s. “Hi…” he whispered.

“Hi,” Gene replied, moving closer as he sat up next to him. He yawned and arched his back in a deep stretch. “What’s the time?”

“Two in the morning.”

“Jesus,” Gene sighed. “Why are you up?”

Sam smirked and took Gene’s hand again. “Just thinking about the baby.”

“I’m sure Annie would phone us if she went into labor in the middle of the night, love.”

“It’s not that,” Sam said. “It’s...well, I was thinking that what if...what if we don’t connect?”

“What do you mean?”

Sam felt a lump in his throat. “I mean that...I read that babies can feel an instant connection to their parents, and--”

“And you’re her parent, Sam.”

“But not her biological parent,” he replied, a slight tremble in his voice.

Gene put his arm around him and kissed his temple. “Oh, Sammy,” he whispered.

“You and Annie are her biological parents and, I want her to have a connection with you two…” He paused and wiped away a tear. “Obviously, but...what if there isn’t one between  _ us _ ?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

Sam sighed. “Sounds a bit silly when I say it out loud, eh?”

“The silliest thing you’ve ever said, and I’ve worked with you a long time.” Gene squeezed him closer. “And you read too much. Stop devouring all of that Mister Spock tripe.”

“ _ Doctor _ Spock, Guv.”

“Whatever, as you can see, it’s keeping you up at night.” He could still feel the tension in Sam and he said, “Connections are  _ not _ all biological, you know that. Look at us.”

“What about us?”

“Well, we didn’t exactly connect at first, did we?”

“That’s because you threw me into your file cabinets!”

“Only because you were shouting about like you ran the place.” Gene heard Sam click his tongue in annoyance and he giggled. “But, it took time, didn’t it? Figuring us out. We got the hang of each other, knew our faults, knew what made the other tick. One of the first things I learned about you was that you chewed your fingers when you were deep in thought. Nasty habit, you know?”

Sam laughed and sniffed. “Yeah, I know.”

Gene kissed his cheek. “Look, if it makes you feel better, the baby’s going to know bugger all after she’s born. She’ll be the most confused person in the room, and you’ll be the sappiest one, crying your eyes out, no doubt.” He poked Sam’s arm to indicate the jest in his remark. 

“And you’ll be the coolest one in the room, you think?” Sam asked, poking him in the chest. 

“Christ, no,” Gene laughed. “I’ll be afraid that I’ll drop her.”

“You won’t, Guv, I keep telling you…”

“You have  _ your _ concerns, my dear, allow me to have mine.”

\---------------

Gene dipped the washcloth into the water as he cupped his daughter’s head and neck with one hand. He gently washed under her chin. 

“You’ve got the Hunt Double Chin, little one,” Gene murmured to her, smiling. Ruthie made a soft grunting noise and Gene laughed. “You do, my love. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t forget to wash the folds of her chubby Hunt legs,” Sam quipped.

“Oh, shhh,” Gene said, smiling at him and then back at Ruthie. “Daddy’s being rude.” 

The tub lay on the dinner table next to a big, fluffy purple towel, and a handful of wet cotton balls and cotton swabs sat next Sam. There was another towel in the tub to keep Ruthie from slipping, and she would occasionally slap a free hand into the warm water.

“Are you splashing me, girl?” Gene would ask, giggling. 

Sam picked up the camera and snapped a few photos of Gene running the washcloth over her belly and around her umbilical clamp.

“I think she loves her bath, Guv,” he said.

“Takes to water like a duck,” Gene added. “Okay, let’s get those little fingers and then we’ll wash your hair...well, what little you have, anyway.”

“Oh, don’t worry, love,” Sam assured him. “She’ll have the patented Hunt Mane soon, I’m sure.”

They shared a quiet laugh and Ruthie let out what appeared to be an amused noise, and they laughed louder. 

“Silly girl,” Gene said to her. “Would you like to have hair like Papa’s?”

“She’s got that blonde on her head,” Sam said, snapping another picture. “That’s a given.” He cleared his throat and put down the camera, and he stood behind Gene and looked down at their baby as her bath continued. 

“Would you like to wash her hair?” Gene asked him.

Sam’s heart began to pound. “Oh, I don’t...I don’t want to get water in her eyes.”

“Then don’t get water in her eyes,” he quipped, still smiling. “Looked easy enough in your book: just wrap her up and hold her head over the tub.” He paused and looked up at him. “If I can hold her without dropping her, you can wash her wee little head.”

Sam licked his lips and swallowed, making Gene laugh again. “Blimey, Tyler,” he said. “I’m not asking you to scale Mount Kilimanjaro.”

“Sounds easier, to be honest,” Sam replied, grinning.

“Bollocks. Here.” He put down the washcloth and motioned to her. “Go on. Just do what your book said; I know you have it memorized.”

Sam didn’t say anything to him, but yes, Sam had memorized this bit particularly well.

He reached into the tub and lifted her out, careful to cradle her head and neck. “Here we go,” he whispered to her. “Let’s dry you off...get between those little legs folds, haha.” 

He set her gently on the towel and proceeded to pat her dry. Ruthie gazed up at him the entire time with wide, bright blue eyes. She put her hands by her head and wiggled on her back, kicking her feet to him. 

“Hey, now, you wiggle worm,” Sam giggled. “I’ve got to dry these little piggies.” He carefully patted dry her little feet and toes, and then he swaddled her with the towel. “Okay, here’s the last bit.”

He hadn’t noticed that Gene had already left his chair, but it was only because he was concentrating hard on the little bundle in his arm.

He hovered over the small tub and picked up an old tea cup that was set beside it. Sam filled it with the warm bath water and slowly poured it over her fine hair.

Ruthie let out a small shriek, and Sam stopped pouring the water but saw that no harm was done. In fact, she was giving him a half-smile.

“Oh, you weren’t expecting that?” Sam asked her, smiling with relief and amusement. “Here, let’s do it again.” He poured more water on her head and she made the same noise and smile. “You like that, don’t you?” Sam laughed, putting down the tea cup.

“Come on, now,” he told her, “let’s get serious here. Shampoo time, just a bit.” He pumped a small amount of tear-free shampoo onto his fingertips and applied it to her hair. After a good lather, he rinsed it out as she made joyful gurgling sounds again. “This is your favorite part, isn’t it?”

He quickly glanced up to find that Gene was filming him with their new Minolta camcorder. 

“Guv,” he said, smiling.

“What?” Gene asked, and then cleared his throat. “It is Saturday morning,” he narrated as he filmed. “August 27, 1977. Ruthie Tyler-Hunt is three days old and she loves her bath. Especially when Daddy washes her hair.”

Sam darted his eyes to the camera again and grinned. He put the tea cup down again and set Ruthie on the table to dry her head with a small hand towel.

Gene panned the camera over the table, displaying the used cotton balls and multiple washcloths. “So many things just to clean a little body,” he said.

Sam carefully combed her hair with a soft round-tipped baby comb before picking up the nappy that lay on top of her yellow onesie. 

“Ah,” Gene said, “now, here’s where Daddy is an expert.”

Sam laughed. “Papa puts your nappies on too loose, doesn’t he?”

“Oi, I’ll get the hang of it. Watch the clamp now.”

“I see it, love,” Sam assured him as he folded down the front of the nappy so as not to press the umbilical clamp. He soon had the nappy secured around her. “There now,” he said, smiling down at Ruthie. “Clean bottom, clean nappy.”

“Not for long.”

“Ha, yeah! Not for long.” He picked up the onesie and proceeded to dress her, carefully putting it over her head and rolling it down. He secured her feet and hands, and slowly zipped up the front of it. “And that was your first bath!” he said, leaning forward and kissing the bottoms of her feet. 

Ruthie gave him another half-smile and grunted, and Sam picked her up and cradled her in his arm. 

“You’re ready for your bottle now, aren’t you?” he asked her.

Gene turned off the camcorder and approached them. He caressed their daughter’s clean head and kissed Sam’s forehead. “Good job, love,” Gene said. “I said you could do it.”

“Did you see how much she loved that water over her head?” Sam asked. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Gene smiled and kissed him again. “I’ll get her bottle warmed up.” 

Sam went into the sitting room as Gene went into the kitchen. He sat down on the sofa and stroked Ruthie’s cheek with his finger. “What a beautiful girl you are,” he whispered to her. “I can’t believe you’re here. I spent these months imagining what you would look like, and my imagination doesn’t compare to the perfect little bundle you turned out to be.” 

Ruthie gurgled again and gripped his finger.

He looked up to see Gene handing him the bottle, and Sam playfully gasped. “How does it feel to have us at your beck and call, baby girl?”

He tried to pull his finger out of her grip, but she held fast. 

“Are you hungry or not?” Sam grinned. “I need this for now, and then you can have it back.”

As soon as he pulled his finger away, Ruthie began to whimper and then a small sob escaped her.

“She likes holding your hand, Daddy,” Gene pointed out.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry, here, here. Take this,” he said, putting the bottle’s nipple into her mouth.

She whined as she sucked and a single tear fell down her cheek.

“A real tear?” Gene said. “My goodness, we are dramatic.”

“Oh, shhh, baby girl,” Sam soothed her. He leaned back into the sofa and began to sing:

 

_ “You are my special angel, sent from up above, _

_ The Lord smiled down on me,  _

_ And sent an angel to love. _

 

_ You are my special angel, right from Paradise, _

_ I know that you’re an angel, _

_ Heaven is in your eyes.” _

 

Ruthie stopped whining and looked at Sam as he sang and when he paused to check on her, she pulled away from the bottle and grunted. 

“Want me to finish?” he asked her.

“Why don’t you start over?” Gene said.

Sam lifted his eyes to him and sighed again when he saw that Gene was filming them again. 

“Go on, then,” Gene urged.

“Guv…”

“And action!”

Sam laughed and shook his head, but looked down at Ruthie once more, putting the bottle in her mouth again as he started from the top.


End file.
